


cross my heart (and hope to die)

by rogersbarnes (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rogersbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thinking about it now, he realizes how stupid he was, for not noticing how Bucky never made that promise back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cross my heart (and hope to die)

_Bucky swears quietly next to him on his mattress, breath showing in the cold air around them in their apartment. "That old rotter realize he's going to freeze to death just as much a we are?" He asks, talking about their landlord Mr. Henderson who'd turned off the heating because Maggie from downstairs hadn't payed her bills this month. "Probably even sooner. Hopefully." He adds and Steve can feel him smirking._

_Steve doesn't like him talking like that, told him so many times, but Bucky always smiles at him and shrugs. "'m gonna end up in hell anyway, Stevie. Can't be any worse than this, now, can it?"_

_He doesn't know but the thought of Bucky going to hell ain't right at all. Bucky wouldn't fit in there, not with that big heart he's carrying around._

_“You want another blanket?” Steve whispers and it's concerning, how much energy it costs him to move his lips. He can barely keep his eyes open and he’s not gonna admit it, of course he’s not, but it feels like as soon as he closes his eyes now, he might not open them again tomorrow morning._

_The scary thing is, he doesn’t know if that would be such a bad thing. Because, see, Bucky wouldn’t have to work as hard anymore, to feed the both of them. Because he’s only seventeen years old and shouldn’t have to worry about Steve all the time. He wouldn’t have to spend half of his money on medicine for Steve, wouldn’t have to give up most of the blankets just so Steve wasn’t as cold anymore. Bucky deserves better then this. And Steve is fed up with feeling like a liability all the time._

_Bucky chuckles, quietly. “One blanket more or less won’t keep my damn toes from freezing off.”_

_“Bucky-“ He breathes, and starts coughing immediately, because his lungs are pathetic and he's sure they're trying to kill him with every rattling breath he takes._

_He can hear Bucky shift on the floor next to him. He reaches his hand out, putting it on Steve’s chest until the coughing stops._

_Bucky lets out a breath of tired relief when he's sure Steve's chest is moving again and shakes his head. “Damn it, boy, stop scaring me like that.” He relaxes a bit, but his hand never leaves its spot on Steve’s chest, right above his heart, warming him, calming his lungs. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more than this buddy.” He whispers quietly._

_“What are you talking about?” Steve whispers back, curling his fingers around Bucky’s wrist and trying to tell him that he’s angry about his words because how can Bucky even think like that? Doesn’t he understand that he’s the only reason Steve’s still alive?_

_“I want to give you so much” Bucky continues. “Want to keep you warm. Bring food home. Medicine. Can’t do none of that lately, can I?”_

_“Shut up” Steve hisses, tightening his grip at the same time as Bucky starts brushing his thumb over the cotton of his shirt. “Shut up right now.”_

_“’m gonna give you a better life, I’m telling ya. Cause you deserve it, you know? Don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re the only thing that keeps me sane.”_

_“You don’t need me.You can’t. I’m not gonna make it, Buck.” Steve tries weakly, because it’s the truth, because it’s only november, and it’s so cold already, with people dying on the streets and it’s gonna get worse and they both know it and Steve is too weak far too soon, he’ll die, he knows it. He thinks Bucky knows it, too._

_He hopes that Bucky, somehow, misses the way his heart is beating against his ribs right now. He probably doesn’t, though, judging by the way his fingers curl into the fabric of Steve’s shirt._

_“You're a bloody punk” He swears and Steve hears him sniffle. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m gonna get us out of this wretched hovel, you hear? You ain’t gonna die on me, I swear Steve- I swear-“_

_And it’s the first and last time Steve sees Bucky cry and it’s horrible. The boy never cried in front of Steve, not even when his mom died, because he always had to be the strong guy, had to keep up his good mood so Steve wouldn't be sad. Steve curls his fingers tighter around Bucky’s wrist and slowly pushes back his blankets, biting back a pained sound as the freezing air hits him and crawls over when Bucky starts pulling on his hand._

_Bucky lifts his own covers, making room for him and Steves slips under them as fast as he can. Bucky then reaches his hand out, pulling Steve’s blankets over and Steve thinks there are at least five or six sheets draped over them but he still can’t remember a time he’d felt as cold as right now._

_They’re both facing eachother and Steve isn’t sure if this is normal. If this is something everyone does to keep eachother warm. But he doesn’t care when Bucky carefully slings an arm around his back, pulling their stiff bodies together and as soon as their chests and legs touch Steve lets out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and burrying his face in Bucky’s warm chest._

_The other boy just pulls him closer, his lips hidden in Steve’s hair. “You gotta stop talking like that. How am I supposed to leave you when you say things like this.”_

_“’m sorry.” Steve mumbles. He brings his hands up and rubs them against Bucky’s back, hoping to give the other boy at least a little bit warmth back. “I don’t mean to make you worry.”_

_“You're all I've got.” Bucky whispers, tightening his arms around him. His chest is heaving where Steve has burried his face and it makes his heart ache. “Don’t leave me alone here, Steve.”_

_“I won’t.” Steve says and thinks he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep, so he adds “I’ll try.”_

_* * *_

Thinking about it now, he realizes how stupid he was, for not noticing how Bucky never made that promise back.

_* * *_

“They saw him.” Natasha says, one night, when they’re sitting in his dark apartment. “Clint and his guys. Yesterday, in Istanbul.” She adds, being quiet again.

Steve nods.

Natasha sighs. “Clint says he’s okay. He's got somwhere to live. Seems to be working at a market there.”

He doesn't want to think about how they seem to have been watching him. He also can’t think of a reason why Bucky  would choose to stay at Turkey. Maybe because the sun shines brighter there. Maybe because it isn’t as cold. Maybe because it’s far away.

Away from everything that they’d done to him.

Away from Steve.

“Okay.” He says and doesn’t flinch when Natasha leaves.

_* * *_

The day Bucky fell off that train, it ripped half of Steve’s heart out.

When he saw him on that bridge a few weeks ago, when he found out what had happened to his best friend, all this time without him knowing about it, the second half of it broke, too.

He feels like he's left with nothing and he doesn't know what to do to make the pain stop.

This isn’t Steve Rogers, this is a man that has reached the end of the line.

_* * *_

“We can go, you know.” Sam suggests the next day, when they’re eating breakfast at Sam’s flat because he didn’t want to move into the tower like everyone else did. “You know I’d come with you.”

Steve tries to smile at him, nodding. “I know. But I don’t think we should.”

Sam doesn’t even try to hide his frown. “Steve, what’s going on?” He asks, putting down his coffee. “Why’d you ask Natasha to get you his file when you were going to lock it away the second you’d finished reading it?”

Because Bucky's broken a promise he never made. “He was told what to do for seventy years.” Steve says. “I don’t have a right to ask him to come with me now that he’s able to live a normal life. I can’t be this selfish. Not with him.”

_Don’t leave me alone here, Steve._

_I won’t._

Sam watches him carefully for a few seconds. Pain washes over his face and he shakes his head. “I respect your decisions, Cap. But just let me tell you this: If I’d be given a second chance with Riley... I’d... hell, I'd move fucking _mountains_ to not lose him again.”

Steve gulps, because he’s right. Natasha’s right.

Everyone’s right.

Except they aren’t, because they don’t get it.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He says.

Sam gives him a tight, sad smile. “Yeah, me too, Cap.”

_* * *_

He sees Bucky one night in his dreams.

Bucky stands at the end of his bed, watching him. His face is unreadable, like stone and ice.

“Bucky?” Steve asks quietly and Bucky flinches a little.

“You...” He starts, voice weak, and clears his throat. “You gave up.”

It’s too real. His heart is hammering against his chest and he wants to wake up because seeing Bucky like this hurts morn than anything else. Because he won’t be there in the morning. “On what?” He asks.

“On me” Bucky says. “Did you... is it because I’m not him?”

“No” Steve says, sitting up straighter. “You’re still him. You’re Bucky.”

“But you don’t want me. You know where to find me but you don’t care.”

“Bucky...” Steve tries and wants to stand up but Bucky flinches away.

“Stay where you are.” He demands, voice shaking. His eyes dart around, as if someone’s hiding, ready to take him out.

“Okay.”

There’s a silence, before Bucky speaks again. “You’re all I can remember.” And Steve’s face contorts in pain because there’s no emotion in his words, no warmth behind those eyes that used to shine brighter than the sun with heart and bravery.

Steve knows this isn’t a dream, knows it because he can feel an itch in his hands, to just reach out and pull this man against him because it would be the first time since he lost him he’d be able to take a breath without feeling a piece of his heart stab right into his lungs.

“I’m sorry” Is all Steve seems to be able to say without breaking apart right there and now.

“I don’t want this” Bucky says shaking his head. Steve notices then, that he’s pulled his hair back, into a messy pony tail, looking more like Bucky than the Winter Soldier, and it feels like this man standing in front of him is neither of them.

A whole new person but still the same-

“I don’t want to feel like I have to make sure you’re safe all the time.” He says, and there’s confusion on his face, the only emotion Steve’s seen on his features. “I want to live a normal life. But I can’t do that when I’m not... I can’t be away from you.”

“I’m sorry” Steve says again. “This is why I tried to stay away.” He tries to explain and his eyes sting because there’s only so much a man can take. “I don’t want you to feel like this Bucky.”

“Who was I, to you” Bucky wants to know. He shakes his head. “How can I feel like this when I was only your best friend”

“You were more then my best friend” Steve says, voice thick, and it isn’t right, what he’s saying, but it’s not wrong either, because calling Bucky his best friend sounds so _wrong_. It doesn't do him justice, not with everything he’d done for Steve, everything he’d sacrficied for him.

_‘m gonna give you a better life, I’m telling ya. Cause you deserve it, you know?_

“Was I?” Bucky asks, a hint of desperation in his voice. “That why it feels like a stab to the stomach seeing that bruise on your face?” His eyes look pained where they're looking at the spot undernath Steve's right eye and Steve can’t breathe.

He barely thinks about the fading bruise there, a punch a guy of a group of Albanian mafias had landed on him with brass knuckles yesterday.

“You used to worry about me all the time.” He forces back all of the feelings rising in his throat, tears that won't flow feeling like acid.

“I don’t want this” Bucky repeats. “I like it in Istanbul. I want to live there. But you’re here. And you’re getting hurt and I can’t stay away.” He lets out a ragged breath. “I hate it.”

“What can I do?” Steve asks.

He can hear a soft whirring noice, realizes that it’s coming from Bucky’s metal arm and he feels the urge to take Bucky’s face in his hands and apologize for everything he’s done, or everything he hasn’t done, because he didn’t save him when him dying because of Steve and then going through this living hell was all Steve’s fault.

“Tell me to-“ Bucky starts, shaking his head and he makes a pained noise at the back of his throat. “Tell me that you don’t want me. That you want me to leave- I need- I can follow instructions, I’m good at that-“

“Bucky, fuck-“ Steve whispers and stands up and Bucky is already backing up, too much emotions flashing through his eyes.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay” Bucky says. “But I can’t breathe around you, what- what am I supposed to do”

Steve chokes back everything that threatens to spill out in that moment. Words and feelings that don’t make any sense and it leaves his hands trembling with how tired he is. “You can leave, Bucky” He forces out instead. “Go... back to Istanbul, find yourself someone nice, someone who deserves you... you don’t have to stick around because of me. I’m okay, you see that, don't you?”

Bucky shakes his head and Steve brushes his hand over his eyes. “The only thing I need is for _you_ to be okay.”

“You want that?” Bucky asks. “For me to live a life without you?”

Steve opens his mouth to say yes, or no, he’s not even sure, but his heart is racing because anything he says could make Bucky leave and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to move on from losing him all over again.

“I want you to be happy.” He says instead and it’s the truth.

“I don’t think that’s possible without you.” Bucky admits miserably and he makes a frustrated sound and turns around, like he’s going to leave.

“Don’t leave” And it slips out, like a demand, and Steve would hate himself for it, if it wasn’t for the look in Bucky’s eyes when he turns around again.

It leaves him breathless, because for a second it looks so much like _Bucky,_ because he used to look at him like that, like Steve was his whole world, and how didn't Steve notice that back then? It almost makes him tear up, and Bucky’s standing in front of him, close but not close enough, his chest heaving, and he understands, what he meant, about it being heard to breathe around him, because Steve doesn’t remember the last time he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs like this since his last asthma attack back in the military camp.

“I’ll stay” Bucky says, looking confused by his own words. “I think I’d do anything you asked me to.”

“No” Steve whispers quickly, stepping closer, hands twitching where they’re hanging at his sides. “I'm not asking you for... anything but doing what you want. What... what _do_ you want?”

Bucky looks at him, helpless. “I want...” He says, his brows furrowed and shaking his head, as if it’s the first time he’s saying those words out loud and it hurts Steve to realize that it probably is. “I want to be close to you.” He says, closing his eyes in a frustrated way and Steve reaches out without thinking because thinking results in resisting and not doing what he probably should be doing so he touches his fingers to Bucky’s, both metal and flesh ones and feels Bucky freeze at the touch. But the man doesn’t pull away, doesn’t attack him, so Steve keeps his fingers there.

“Then stay.” He says. “We can get you an apartment, here in the tower, if you want. You can... we can figure all of it out later. But you’re welcome here. It’s okay.”

“No” Bucky shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I want to be _close_ to you.” He says, a hint of fear in his voice. “Did you not know... back then, he-“ He stops talking, looking at the ground.

Steve tries to not read too much into it. It's going to be only one more realization, how much Steve messed it up back then. Who would've thought, that the only thing Captain America is scared of is this man right here, a man that used to build a home for Steve wherever they went. “It... was different, then.” Steve tries. “We couldnt- _weren't_ anything but friends.”

“Not to him.” Bucky says. “Never. He always- ... You were always more.” His face is unreadable again, blank.

“I didn’t know” Steve forces out.

But maybe he did. Maybe that’s why Bucky’s death pulled the rug from under his feet like that. Could be the reason he flew that plane into that ice days later, hearing Peggy’s voice but seeing Bucky’s smile when he'd crashed into it.

“And now” Bucky says, doesn’t ask but Steve knows it’s a question.

He watches him, his clouded eyes that have seen things that were never meant for them, his lips that are pressed into a tight line, the strand of hair falling into his face, the way his left shoulder is turned away slightly, as if trying to keep distance between him and the metal arm, looking lost and out of emotion and it hurts so much because he didn't deserve any of this. “I can't lose you again, I don't want-” Steve starts but doesn't know what he means to say, doesn't know how to say those words burning in his mouth without scaring Bucky away.

“Do you want _me_?” Bucky asks hesitantly, his metal fingers twitching against Steve’s.

Steve blinks, blinks the wetness from his eyes. Damn it, how can he even ask something like that?

“So much” he admits weakly and Bucky huffs out a breath, swaying on his feet, and Steve curls his fingers around his wrists and Bucky’s leaning his forehead against Steve’s shoulder, his hot breath ghosting over Steve’s chest and if Steve thought that losing his heart had hurt, then that was only because he didn’t know how it felt to get the pieces back.

Because his chest feels like it might burst.

“You want me” Bucky repeats.

Steve brushes his fingers higher, over his arms, slowly, not wanting to scare him away and nods softly. “I always did, Buck.”

Bucky is quiet for a few moments. “There wasn't a time I didn’t miss you” He then whispers. “I just forgot your face.”

Steves chokes back a sob at his words and pulls at Bucky’s arms and Bucky turns his face, presses it agains Steve’s throat. He feels Bucky's hands on his waist then and moves his own hands up to press them against Bucky’s back hesitantly.

For a few moments they just touch, like they’re trying to get used to the feeling of the other one’s muscles underneath they’re fingers, like they're making sure they're both alive because they _shouldn't_ be, is the thing. They should have died, more then seventy years ago, frozen in ice, but they're not and this is life giving them a second chance and Steve hopes like hell that he's not going to mess this up. Bucky curls his fingers into Steve’s shirt at his side, steps closer to him and makes a small sound against Steve’s throat and Steve finally wraps his arms around him, pulling their bodies flush together.

It feels like the last time they hugged like this, when Steve had found Bucky in Zola's lab, when they’d clinged to eachother in the safety of their tent back in their camp with a kind of desperation that you feel when you’d almost lost the person that matters most to you, but it was different now, after everything that had happened, everything they’d done and seen.

Steve buries his face in Bucky’s neck, inhales his musky scent that reminds him so much of Brooklyn, of their old apartment, the balcony where they’d sit when it was warm outside, with Bucky sleeping in the sun, his feet propped up in Steve’s lap while he was trying to capture the line of Bucky’s jaw in his moleskine, the way his lips were slightly curved up at the corners because he knew Steve was watching him, drawing him, how the light caught in his ruffled mess of hair, how it used to take Steve’s breath away for whole other reasons than just him having asthma.

Bucky tugs at his shirt, and Steve feels his nose follow the line of his throat, up to his jaw, behind his ear where he feels him inhale, making his blood rush and his breath catch in his throat and then their faces are inches away from each other, Bucky’s hot breath ghosting over his lips, the heat of his body making Steve's arms shake where they’re snaked tightly around the body of the only person that can rip out and stich his heart back together over and over again.

Their lips brush, softly, tentatively, and Bucky shudders against him, his grip tightening and stretching the fabric of Steve's shirt. Steve presses in again to chase the touch of their lips and it makes him almost sigh in relief when he feels Bucky press himself closer against him, his hands coming up to take a grip in his hair, tugging desperately while their lips barely move, mouthing at eachother's lips and Steve can feel how Bucky is holding back, how his shoulders are tense where his metal arm is touching him and he wants to fix it, wants to kiss the glistening surface until Bucky understands that Steve isn't feeling like this just because he's missed his best friend, but because losing him was like no place feeling like home anymore, and having him back was like realizing that it's been Bucky all along.

Bucky lets out a shuddering breath against his lips when they pull away, hands shaking and Bucky looks awestruck and Steve thinks he shouldn’t, not this fast, this reckless, and he can hear Natasha warning and scolding him in the back of his mind, but this is Bucky, and how can he not - because he never could when it came to Bucky and really, he's been stuck on him since the very first time he laid eyes on him, hasn't he? - and falling for him hits him harder than crushing into ice.

And he doesn’t care, because when he wakes up the next morning, it’s to Bucky’s soft face, his warm eyes looking at him like he's the only thing he's ever laid eyes on, his careful fingers brushing over Steve’s collarbones.

Bucky might have never made the promise back, but he sure held it better than Steve ever did.

**Author's Note:**

> i really don't know what happened. i should not be given a laptop when i can't sleep (and i guess i'm rubbish at summaries)


End file.
